


Neville Longbottom and the school of Abjuration

by WendigoPatronus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Pansy Parkinson is a gay disaster, Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Squibs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendigoPatronus/pseuds/WendigoPatronus
Summary: Neville Longbottom is supposed to become a great wizard, or so his grandmother always says. As it turns out, doing so is more difficult than any of them thought when one has to deal with a broken family, scary teachers, pesky Slytherins, dangerous monsters, and *gasps* yucky girls.OR; A retelling of the Philosopher's Stone, but from the sidelines, mainly from Neville's perspective, but other characters will become important too.
Relationships: Algie/Enid (Harry Potter), Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Augusta Longbottom/Mr Longbottom Sr, Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Mafalda Hopkirk/Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, more to come!
Kudos: 3





	1. Scones, Squibs and Meringues

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanwork, english is not my first language, and I am writing this without a beta, so all constructive criticism is welcome! Also, tell me what you want to see in Neville's year, everything isn't exactly fleshed out yet. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we meet the Longbottom family, the whole of which is desperate to prove that Neville is, in fact, a wizard. Also, a cabinet makes objects vanish.

In spite of, and perhaps because of, his odd name and slightly chubby features, Neville Longbottom was a disappointingly normal child.

He was raised by his paternal grandmother for as long as he could remember, though that wasn’t saying very much. His memory capacity, which would have made a goldfish look like an Oxford graduate, was actually one of the few things that did define him. It was, and still is, less commonly seen in an eight-year-old from Lancashire than liking to watch Manchester United games on the telly with the small number of friends he had and going on walks in the neighbouring forest.

His gran Augusta would always tell him that he “was supposed to be destined for a much, much brighter future than _that_ ”. The fact that she did so whilst looking disapprovingly at him as he lay down in the mud he had just fallen into face first _again_ did nothing to help his self-esteem. Between these looks and the stories she told about how great his parents were, especially his father, the little boy had a lot to live up to and a long way to go before he was deemed worthy of praise by any adult he knew.

Oh, how Neville sometimes wished he could be a squib as he lay awake at night, alone in his small bed in the attic. If he didn’t have any kind of magical powers, he thought, he could just go on his merry life and end up working as a banker, or a farmer, or a gardener, or anything he could possibly wish for. His gran wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ be disappointed with him then, he supposed. He would have a nice little cottage in the suburbs, a lovely spouse, two children and perhaps a dog. A St Bernard would be nice, he thought weakly as he was slowly drifting to sleep, happy with the future he was envisioning for himself. He could go to the pub on Thursdays, doing whatever it was that grown-ups did in a pub on Thursdays. Perhaps lie on the ground with paper bags over their head, if it seemed like an appropriate thing enough to do. That was his second to last conscious thought before he began to dream about a nice little hearth fire. The last one actually was “It’s a bit cold in here, isn’t it?”. Two new sets of baby blue blankets then magically appeared to protect him against the cold wind that passed through the window he once again forgot to close.

The exact number of blankets in the house was always a  mystery to Augusta Longbottom. No matter how many Neville managed to ruin with bleach whilst washing them or with mud when he decided the best place to construct a blanket fort was the middle of the forest, there always seemed to appear more in the supply closet, already folded.  The fact that they were all of her grandson’s favourite shade of blue should have awoken some kind of doubt in her that the little one was magical, but it didn’t, as all  the blankets  she had ever owned were that exact shade of blue.  She did not suspect that it was Neville’s favourite colour because of the blankets, not for their warmth, but for their jasmine scent which always reminded him of his gran and the safety of home. Augusta never completely understood what her grandson found so endearing about jasmine, not even when she put some in her oversized purse every time she went outside of the ir house.

The “blanket problem”, as she had taken to herself to call it, was one of her favourite and most recurrent discussions topic with her brother-in-law A l gie and his wife  Enid as they came around for tea every other Saturday. 

“The kid’s magical, I tell you he is!” bellowed Algie one day between two aggressive bites of a deliciously moist homemade raspberry scone. “You just have to, you know, force some magic into him!” The hand gesture that accompanied this last statement did nothing to reassure Augusta that no harm would come to Neville.

“ Oh, I don’t know about that...  You know that your brother, my dear husband, may he rest in peace, always droned on about this weird cabinet. He said something about an uncle of his, Ferdinald if I remember correctly, that had somehow tweaked it, but it was some kind of accident...” Augusta Longbottom tapped her lip with her spoon, lost in thoughts, both about her cabinet and her late husband. The fact that she still could not utter his name since his death was sad and tragic to A l gie. Enid Longbottom simply found it funny.

“There could be another explanation for the fact that you can’t ever know how many blankets you have at  any given moment , but I don’t think you’re going to like it very much my dear Augusta...” Enid chimed in with no detectable amount of compassion or any kind of endearment  whatsoever in her voice. “Even if you were once a fierce and formidable witch, you aren’t exactly the youngest and most alert one in these fair isles  anymore. ..”

Enid sipped her tea calmly, very satisfied with the fact that it wasn’t the only thing in the room that was currently fuming.  A l gie was currently too preoccupied with cleaning scone crumbs from his walrus moustache to really pay attention to the tactlessness of his wife and the boiling anger of his sister-in-law.

“ I assure you that I have lost none of my once praised and respected capabilities, Enid”, Augusta spat acidly. “ Do I really need to remind you that I was second only to Filius in the 1953 European Duelling Championships? Who did you lose against in the preliminary rounds  that time ? Oh yes,  Walburga Black, as if that old hag could do anything without her house elves... ”

“That was 35 years ago and you are still bringing it up? You know sister dearest, with all due respect,” continued Enid without any sort of respect, “ever since your husband passed away, you have kind of been in a state of decline. I even heard from Bathilda the other day that you carried an armed mousetrap in your gigantic red purse. Surely no one in their right mind would...”

“So, A l gie, what exactly are you proposing?” snapped Augusta, just to stop Enid’s distasteful rambling.  For the love of Merlin’s saggy balls, she simply could not stand this old  woman .  She didn’t even have the time to ponder whether the fact that the feeling was mutual was a good or a bad thing before A l gie enthusiastically interrupted  her train of thoughts  to explain his splendidly stupid idea.

***

“ So, kiddo, do you want to go on vacation?” said A l gie Longbottom with a smile that Neville had learned announced nothing but ridiculous pranks. The fact that Enid was also smiling did nothing to calm the young boy’s nerves. Enid never smiled unless someone was about to suffer or she was about to get rich. Any combination of the two would be her idea of a perfect day. She had other qualities, she must have. Augusta always said that every person that walks this earth has value. Even though she often thought it didn’t apply to her sister-in-law, she never said it out loud.

“I’m already on vacation, we’re in the middle of august!” replied Neville, trying as best as he could to avoid the prank he could feel himself stumbling towards.

“ Well, that leaves you two weeks to come with us to our little cottage on the isle of Man! We could hike in the mountains, swim in the lake,  talk to the fairies in the rivers, study the wonderful plants... Wouldn’t you like to look at algae with  gr uncle A l gie, little one?” A l gie was so enthusiastic and excited at the idea of doing all those things he talked about you could see his eyes shine and you could even forget for a moment that he was still wearing that prankster’s smile. Fortunately for him, Neville was pretty good at forgetting things.

“Well that doesn’t sound half-bad! I always wanted to see your house on the island, and I even read that there were some explosive  seaweed hidden somewhere on the northern shores...” Neville was definitely caught in his great-uncle’s excitement, and he was falling for the plan hook, line and sinker. “Can I go granny please?”

“ You will not be playing with explosive seaweed, I can guarantee that, but  I could use two weeks of peace and quiet, Morganna know s I’ve deserved it! Yes, you can go and play with your great-uncle until the end of the summer. I still want you to be back in time for the beginning of your muggle school in September! Just because you can read now doesn’t mean you don’t have anything else to learn, little boy.” Even though her words were harsh, Augusta still gave Neville a warm smile. She would never admit it, but she cared for the boy more than anything else in the world, perhaps even more than her own son. She did miss the conversations she had with the little rascal. Why oh why did that Lestrange bitch have to go mess up two aurors after all that happened? Why must it have been the Longbottoms? Augusta sighed. She would probably feel very lonely during these two weeks, and she did not know if going to St Mungo’s  would help or worsen that loneliness. She would probably end up going anyway, she just knew it.

“It’s settled then!” A l gie clapped his hands together. They reminded Neville of a walrus’ s flipper, yet somehow more pudgy. “Kiddo, you’re coming with us for two weeks of safe and responsible fun with your gruncle A l gie!”

***

“He almost what now?” Augusta Longbottom yelled as the flames in A l gie and Enid’s foyer became bigger, brighter, hotter, louder, and generally more menacing.  The rendition of Augusta’s face in the fire was not exactly in high-definition, but it did not need to be to convey the full blunt of her outrage.

“Ah yes well, dearest sister, I do believe you’re not paying enough attention on the word  _almost_ . I only said that the kid  _almost_ drowned!” A l gie was furiously trying to find a world in which what happened wasn’t his fault. Fortunately, his wife excelled when it came to shifting the blame to someone else.

“ In a way Augusta, what happened today is your responsibility.” Enid spoke slowly, as one only does when talking down to a child, a puppy or someone they really enjoy seeing frustrated.

“Really? And how is that?”

“Well you see...” started Enid with a grin.

“Before you speak, just know that if I do not like what you hear, you  _will_ regret it.” Augusta was long since past the point of feigning cordiality. She never quite understood what A l gie found in his wife and honestly wasn’t that interested in finding out.

“ Well you see, sister dearest,” Enid started again without a second thought, “if the little one had stayed with us since the beginning, he would have learned to swim in the pond like any other kid that has a pond in their backyard! It’s only because you insisted to take him that he almost drowned today...”

“I don’t think your hand on his head actually helped, love” Algie added, unhelpfully. At least, the stare his wife gave him told him that he was being unhelpful.

“YOU WHAT NOW?” Augusta shouted angrily. “THE  FAT  MANX  SLAG’S HOUSE” she added to her foyer, somehow with even more anger as she threw a green powder in it. The foyer pondered what it had done to deserve such hatred, but decided to let it go and let its owner pass through the floo network.  It had learned from a surprisingly talkative kettle that sometimes, with humans, it was simply better to let them live their emotions elsewhere.

Enid never had the time to see her sister-in-law get out of her chimney before the spell hit her. The first thing she noticed was that she could see herself. The second thing was that this angle wasn’t the most flattering, as she could clearly see that she had grown a potbelly that wasn’t sexy in any kind of way. The third and most important thing she noticed was that she was now a  stuffed vulture. Worse, she was now the stuffed vulture that was sitting on Augusta’s hat.

Neville hadn’t had a good day. Not only did Algie finish all the croissants before he got up for the third morning in a row, but he also almost drowned. The worst part was that he knew that the only two things that kept him alive was Enid’s secret fear that she might one day go too far and the fact that both his pinky toes had somehow turned into faucets, spilling the excess water from his lungs out into the pond. No, he really hadn’t had the best day, but now, seeing his grandma use her favourite curse on his great aunt was a treat. Doing so whilst he shared some nougat with his gruncle Algie was even better.

“I’ll always be there to accept you and support you no matter what, you know that, don’t you kiddo?” Algie asked from behind his moustache.

“What do you mean? Am I weird or something?” Neville answered, warily.

“Well, you know how some of the less pleasant wizarding f olk treat squibs, or people without magical powers from magical families. I hear it’s even worse for squibs from the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“But Algie, I survived the pond today, didn’t I? Wasn’t that magic?”

“Well, your aunt cared enough not to let you drown. Some might call that a miracle, but I wouldn’t exactly call it magic!” He winked at his nephew and took another bite of nougat. “Anyhow, I thought you wanted to be a banker, a soccer player and Spider-Man. None or those are actually wizards, are they? You are not weird little one, not unless you choose to be, because I believe you can be anything you want. Now if you excuse me, I have to get my wife out of that vulture and back into her body.”

Neville pondered A l gie’s words for a bit, then found the remnant of his nougat far more interesting. “Well, being Spider-Man can’t be bad” he thought to himself, “he does get to climb all those buildings and see things from way up high! Also, he beats up bad guys and has a pretty girlfriend. I’d like that, beating up bad guys. I don’t think I’d like the girlfriend part though, girls are yucky. Ooh, that butterfly has purple wings! Wicked!” Just like that, Neville Longbottom had solved all his identity issues at age eight: his goal in life would now be to be as feared and respected as that cute butterfly he saw one time.  He reckoned that he would need to be an animagus for that, and thus he resolved to be a wizard.

***

“ Are you really sure about this Neville? I don’t think your grandmother would approve, and you  _know_ Enid will find a way to make her even more furious” said A l gie with more than a reasonable amount of doubt in his voice. It was understandable, as he was holding his nephew by the ankle through the window of the tower in Augusta’s four-story home.

“I told you I was magical, but you still don’t believe me! If I survive this, you won’t have any choice but to say that I’m right!” In the eight-year-old’s brain, this logic was strong enough to deserve falling from a decent height. In his great-uncle’s mind too, but Algie was seriously afraid of what his sister-in-law could do to his wife, again.

“Yes, I know that, but what happens if you don’t survive? What do I do then?”

“Well you bury me! That won’t happen though, as I am magical and I will survive this.” Algie chuckled at this foolproof reasoning. He had initially thought that seeing his grandfather die before his eyes would have made Neville wary of death, but he doubted the kid actually remembered it. He was often surprised he even remembered his own name. “I am even stronger than Spider-Man,” Neville continued, “I can survive anything! I am even luckier, I don’t just have an aunt, I also have a grandma and the best gruncle in the world!” This was flat-out flattery, but it kind of worked.

“Well I will drop you, but not before I have summoned a couple of pillows just in case. Now, where did I put this damned piece of wood...” Algie took his eyes off Neville for a moment. Enid saw this, and took it as her cue to intervene.

“Does anyone want freshly made meringue?” asked Enid, peeking her head through the tower’s door, as though she hadn’t been listening to the whole affair and silently bickering with Augusta for the last five minutes. It wasn’t hurtful or aggressive or anything, it was playful banter, as even after all that happened, the two women were still the closest friend each other had, in a strange way.

“Ooh, me, me, I want meringue!” Algie exclaimed as though he was eight again.

“What do you think you are doing, young girl?” Augusta hissed, as though Enid was eight again.

“AAAAAAAAAH!” Neville yelled as he fell down the tower, Algie having forgotten him as soon as he had heard the name of a dessert.

A lot of thoughts passed quickly through Neville’s mind.  Surprisingly enough, “I’m going to die” wasn’t one of them. They were more akin to “The birds looks pretty from up here”, “Is that a Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper in my pocket?”, “I wish I could be Spider-Man so I could sling from the tower right now”, “If only Ed and Ned could see me like this!” and “Why did the ground just go ‘boink’?”

“Oops” said Algie.

“What did you do, you blabbering idiot?” said Augusta in her usual charming tone  as she barged in the room .

“Boink” went the ground.

“‘Boink’?” asked Augusta, looking puzzled.

“I was expecting something more akin to a ‘scrounch’ or a ‘splat’” said Enid without any actual disappointment in her voice.

“I did definitely hear a ‘boink’!” insisted Augusta.

“So, where is that meringue?” asked Algie hopefully.

“There is no meringue. It was a lie.” said Enid flatly.

“Oh” said Algie, with sadness in his voice.

The adults now all took the time to look outside the window and saw Neville bouncing back and forth between the trees  as though he was a beach ball, grinning from ear to ear. He had done it, he had proven it to all the grown-ups!

The sadness was long gone in A l gie’s eyes as they  glimmered . “Well, well, well, what do you know! You’re a wizard Neville.”

His words were transported by the wind and the pride in them made Neville grin even wider. He could really become anything he liked with a family that supported him like that, even a purple butterfly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, Neville was supposed to almost drown at the Blackpool Pier, but it felt oh so good to give more screentime to Enid and Algie. I did warn that this wasn't going to be exactly canon compliant, didn't I?
> 
> Also, kudos to all those that spotted the H2G2 reference, I am quite the Douglas Adams fan myself.


	2. The letter that never came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville doesn't want to receive his Hogwarts letter, but he does receive the vist of a certain Mr. Weasley and a very frightening Professor.

Three springs had come and gone since that fateful teatime in the Longbottom household, but little had fundamentally changed since then. Neville was especially sad to say goodbye to his school friends in June as he knew they would be parting ways very soon, but could not tell them why.

“Granny, why can’t I just tell Ed and Ned that I’m a wizard and that I’m going to Hogwarts next year?” asked Neville one July morning. Augusta took a good long look at him, at his half-eaten porridge, at his spoon merely toying with said porridge, and at her clock that told her he had been moping around for over half an hour now. It was not the first time he had asked that question, and the fact that it was not the first meal he seemed to have no appetite for was starting to worry her. After a moment, she laid down her crosswords, took a sip of tea, and spoke calmly but clearly.

“You already know the answer dear, we have to keep the Statute of Secrecy. It’s the only way we can live in peace with the muggles. I’m sorry about Ed and Ned, but if they come knocking and asking questions, I’ll tell them that you are going to a fancy boarding school in London and that you even bought a Chelsea scarf. That’ll shut them up.” She said that last part with a smirk, but Neville was scandalized anyway.

“You can’t do that! It’s not fair! I live in peace with them normal people, and every thing is going well, and I have been getting good grades this year, and the Red Devils are going to win the League next year, you’ll see, and I don’t even want to go to your stupid school in Scotland where I’ll have no friends!” What started as an angry mumble ended up being more akin to a cry for help than Neville would have liked, but it was, as usual, too late to put the words back into his mouth.

“Morning Longbottoms!” exclaimed a red-haired man wearing old battered robes as he got out of the foyer and into the kitchen.

“Morning Arthur, would you like some tea?” Augusta asked, politely. She was relieved to see another adult to help her deal with the situation, and even more relieved to see one that had so much experience with children. As much as she liked her son and her grandson, she didn’t really have any sort of knack for raising a young boy. It really had been more of her late husband’s forte, but there were little chance he could help now.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my kitchen?” asked Neville bluntly. He usually had more manners, but he had been kind of in the middle of some heavy emotional process when this stranger just arrived into his morning routine.

“Ah yes, some tea would be nice, thanks a lot Augusta! And you must be Frank and Alice’s son Neville, am I right? Well, my name is Arthur Weasley and I am a friend of your parents. Brilliant folks, they were, when they worked at the Ministry. It’s a shame all the nasty stuff that happened to them. I’m sure you will be just as fine a wizard as they were once you get through Hogwarts, I can see that in your eyes! You should get your letter pretty soon, my son Ron received his on his birthday over four months ago!” Arthur crouched a bit as he was saying all that so he could talk with Neville eye-to-eye.

“My... My birthday’s next week, on the 30 th  ...” Neville stammered, not quite at ease with strangers yet. He wasn’t quite skilled at making conversation either, so he was really out of his comfort zone here. He was yet somehow inclined to confide in this green-eyed grinning man. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a friend of his parents, perhaps it was the fact that he had a son his age, or perhaps it was just sheer nervousness, but Neville still explained his dilemma. “But I don’t know if I even _want_ to go to Hogwarts! I’ll lose all my muggle friends, I don’t know how to do magic so I will be ridiculed, I won’t be able to watch Manchester United games or Spider-Man on the telly...”

“You have a telly?” Arthur was suddenly ecstatic.

“Granny doesn’t, but Ned has one and we watch it together with our friend Ed when we go to his house... It’s just around the bend...” Neville explained, not entirely certain what was so special about having a television.

“So, Arthur, about my cabinet...” interrupted Augusta as she came back with a cup of tea. She knew the Weasley’s love for muggles and their artefacts and she had no interest in letting that conversation start or else they would be there for hours.

“Ah yes, that was why I was here in the first place, wasn’t it? So you tell me it was enchanted or something? Nothing too dangerous I hope, I wouldn’t want Neville here to enter it and find a faun, a lamp-post, or even a talking lion!” Arthur winked at the little boy as if there was some sort of connection between these items, but Neville could find none.

“No, no, no, nothing of the sort, it’s just that it keeps creating new blankets and the old ones keep on disappearing, but I can’t find the source of the enchantment...”

“Oh well, I better take a quick look at it then, but it doesn’t sound too bad... Anyhow kiddo, before I go upstairs to help out your grandmother, remember this: you are one of the luckiest boys in all of Britain because you have been growing up in both communities, muggle and magic. You will still have to choose one day, and that day will be coming soon, where do you want to build your home, your family, your life. That decision is an important one, so maybe don’t rush it because you like football and the telly, what do you say?” Arthur never had the time to hear what Neville had to say to that as Augusta was starting to loudly lose the rare shard of patience she had.

Neville ended up finishing his porridge alone, as he often did these days, and then went to play in the pond, hoping someone would come play with him.

His only companions that day were toads and water lilies.

***

“Enid! At last! I have been looking for you all over the house!”

“It shouldn’t have taken you much over three minutes and a half then, considering the size of your house...” Enid turned away from the tea she was preparing in the kitchen to see Augusta completely dishevelled, panting in the doorway, and her eyes still twitching everywhere as if she had been frantically searching for something for some time now and couldn’t stop doing so. “What’s wrong Augusta?” The snide tone she normally used for her banter had been replaced with complete seriousness. “Did something happen to Neville?”

“Well no, but actually yes. I can’t find his letter. He can’t have his eleventh birthday without his Hogwarts letter!”

“Perhaps it’s Sunday!” exclaimed Algie, looking up from the frosting bowl he was helping to clean with a comically large spoon and a slightly bigger smile. “There’s no post on Sundays” he tried to explain when he received dark, penetrating glares from both women.

“I love you dear, but that won’t change the fact that it’s Tuesday. Also, the owls still deliver the prophet on Sundays, that’s when the best crosswords are published and you should know that.”Enid tried to look disappointed to mask her anxiety. Algie thought she looked like she was about to give birth to a hippopotamus.

“Enid, you’ve worked as administrative assistant for Dippet right? This must have happened before, letters coming late or at the wrong address or students being forgotten or...” Panic was oozing from each and every one of Augusta's pores.

“Well, we sometimes didn’t send the letter directly on the kid’s eleventh birthday...”

“Yes?” asked Augusta, hopefully.

“But that was because we sent it early to make sure the parents had enough time to absorb the shock and prepare themselves, especially for muggle-born students....”

“Oh. I see.”

“Well, that’s bad.” Algie added, trying to help.

“We _know_ that. You are _not_ helping right now dear” replied Enid as warmly as an Antarctic glacier in the middle of a winter night would have.

“What is going on? Why is there so much noise down here...” Neville wandered down the stairs sleepily. Still in his pyjamas, he took a long time to yawn, then opened his eyes and his face lit up like a birthday cake. “Auntie Enid! Gruncle Algie! A ginormous chocolate cake!”

“Good morning to you too” grumbled Augusta.

“Good morning grandma, love you!” He blew here a kiss, then flew in his great-uncle’s arms to give him a big bear hug.

“What are you doing up so early? I haven’t eaten a single slice of your birthday cake yet!” Algie teased. “So, what are you planning to do on your birthday? You know it’s not every day that you get to turn eleven!”

“Well I was going to play by the pond, I found really beautiful lilies the other day, and a shiny purple butterfly. Would you like to come see them? Ooh, I also wanted to go see Ned, I heard he bought a Mega Drive last week, and he even got a Sonic game! Or maybe we could call a few more people, I know Ed’s cousins are in town, and we could play football and...”

“Slow down little one, slow down! There are rules and traditions, and they are important. First, breakfast...”

“And cake!” interrupted Neville. Augusta grumbled something into her tea about men and the interchangeability between their brains and their stomachs.

“Yes, and Enid’s delicious cake!” Algie laughed loudly as Enid suddenly turned very red. “And then, your presents. After that, yes, we can play, but we will all go see your parents for dinner. Ooh, speaking of presents, have you seen your Hogwarts letter? Your grandmother can’t seem to find it anywhere...”

“Well, I haven’t seen it yet.” Neville pondered for a minute, and then spoke again. “Perhaps it’s Sunday! There’s no post on Sundays, right?”

“How the two of you can think so alike never ceases to astound me” said Augusta whilst shaking her head disapprovingly. Neville and Algie shared a look, shrugged simultaneously and turned their attention back to the older witch. “The owls still deliver the prophet on Sundays Neville dearest, that’s when the best crosswords are published and you should know that. I get that you’re not that sad that you didn’t get a letter yet, but why aren’t you surprised? You better not have done anything funny to your letter just to spend the day with Ed and Ned!” The menace in the air now smelled stronger than even the chocolate cake in the middle of the kitchen.

“Well, ahem, you see, hum, I had this funny dream...” Neville started to try and explain himself, but the more he did so, the guiltier he sounded.

“What did you do now Neville?”

“I don’t know! Nothing, I guess? Maybe I’m not magical enough for Hogwarts so they didn’t send an owl?” The little boy sounded both scared and hopeful as he thought out loud. He didn’t have long to think though, because a sharp, strict voice echoed from the next room.

“Or perhaps you’re a bit too magical to receive it by normal means, have you thought about that?”

“Merlin’s beard Minerva don’t you know how to knock?! How long have you been in my living room?” Augusta yelled as a witch twice her size entered the room wearing a large emerald cloak and a small pair of golden spectacles.

“I have been here long enough. Enid, would you mind pouring me a cup of that tea you were fixing? Thank you dear, much obliged. Well now mister Longbottom, you do have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Huh? But I didn’t do anything!” Algie was slapped on the back of the head shortly after he spoke. He turned to see who had done it, but only saw his wife whistling around the kettle and the china.

“Well, I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about ma’am” Neville tried to sound convinced and failed miserably.

“I’m happy to inform you that you probably won’t be in Slytherin, as lying definitely isn’t one of your strong suits. If you do insist on trying to sound dumber than you actually are, which I do not recommend, then I will tell you my story and perhaps you could fill a few holes in it?” The older witch briefly looked for an objection on Neville’s face, found none, and continued. “So I was having breakfast with Mafalda this morning...”

“Wait, Mafalda as in Mafalda _Hopkirks_? As in _the_ Mafalda Hopkirks? What exactly were you doing before breakfast you surprising woman?” Enid smiled with all her teeth and even a couple others just for show. She had found a new prey for her gossip and was now ecstatic. Minerva McGonagall, on the other hand, was having none of it.

“I understand that Mafalda may have had quite a, hum, _reputation_ when you knew her as Dippet’s student, but I assure you that if our relation is anything more than professional, it’s merely because we met at her book club last month, not that it concerns you in the least. May I continue now, or do you have other insipid rumours to tell us?”

“Oh, how I’d pay to know what you read in your _book club_ ” Enid said those last words with such a strong double entendre that everyone in the room suddenly felt as if they had four ears.

“We read books, something I doubt you’ve ever done in your life. So as I was having breakfast,” McGonagall said, now determined to ignore Enid, “I mentioned that one of the owls that I sent kept to the new students coming back without having delivered anything. Can you guess whose letter he carried, mister Longbottom?”

“Hum, probably mine, I guess?”

“Well, at least Ravenclaw isn’t completely ruled out yet. Now when I said the name Longbottom, Mafalda told me that she had a Traced household of the same name that had a curious charm cast on it just a couple of days ago. A sort of modified Fidelius charm, but that made it so only birds couldn’t see the house if they hadn’t been invited in by the caster. Quite ingenious, don’t you think mister Longbottom?”

“Well, when you put it like that...”

“Now, judging by your grandmother’s panic and your great-aunt’s general set of skills, why did you ask your great-uncle to cast it for you?”

“Wait what did I do now?” Algie asked, surprised the women in the room remembered he was there. Hell, he even almost forgot he was there himself!

“Mr. Longbottom, I know you are not the sharpest tool in the shed, but please do not pretend to be dumber than you are, it’s not having the best influence on your grand nephew” McGonagall said sternly to the older wizard while sipping her tea.

“Don’t be mean with gruncle Algie! If there’s someone to be angry with, it’s gonna be me!” Neville rarely felt courageous, but to defend his family he felt he could lift mountains at the moment. Standing up to that green-cloaked with with the square glasses seemed frightening, but he was ready for anything. “I did it all! When I was playing in the pond last week, a toad told me that if I wanted to, then I could still be a wizard _and_ play with Ed and Ned! All I had to do was never receive my letter, so I wouldn’t be a student.”

“A toad, you say?” asked McGonagall with inquisitive eyes.

“Yes?” answered Neville with significantly less bravado than he had just a moment before.

“Yet you do not speak the language of toads, now do you? Nor would you be able to modify a sixth-level abjuration by altering the very essence of its target?”

“Well the toad spoke to me, and I thought it didn’t have that bad an idea, so I wished it and I guess it happened?” Neville was now determined to keep his eyes firmly locked on his feet.

“If what you say is true, and that is a big _if_ , then you are either a really powerful wizard to cast such a spell, even more so without a wand, or a really dark one to have used someone else’s mgic against their will, which I highly doubt. Either way, I will keep a close eye on you at school Mr. Longbottom.” She pulled out a parchment from under her cloak as she stood up, getting ready to leave. “Here is your letter, need I remind you that the train leaves at 11 am sharp on September 1st?”

“But... what if I don’t want to go to Hogwarts? What if I want to stay here and learn magic from my granny so I can still live in the muggle world?”

“Enough of that nonsense already!” Augusta sounded as though she had this exact conversation every day for the past two months. In her defence, she had. “You _are_ a wizard, you _will_ go to Hogwarts, you _will_ be at least as good as your father was and you _will_ thank the professor who has taken some of her time to give you your letter in person because of your foolish games in the pond!”

“Yes granny” grumbled Neville. “Thank you miss... ah... ma’am... uhh...”

“Professor McGonagall will be fine. It’ll be my pleasure to be your transfiguration professor this year. I’m so happy to see that you can make the right choice for your future.” She nodded to Augusta and then went for the door, but turned back and added “Oh, and Neville?”

“Yes Professor?” he answered timidly.

“If I hear even a single peep of Enid’s disgusting lies about me during your time at Hogwarts, your days will become a living hell and your nights will be full of the worst nightmares. See you in a month!” That last part was too casual and accompanied by too large a grin to sound really sincere after that simple but blood-curling threat. Neville audibly swallowed down his nervousness. He thought back to his discussion with Mr. Weasley. It seemed to him that on his birthday, his big day, every adult in his life had made the biggest decision of his life for him. They all decided he was going to be a wizard, and even possibly a great one with a destiny to match. The worst part in all of that was that they all seemed to pretend it was also his decision.

“Well, that was unexpected, and not completely pleasant.” said Algie as Neville nodded, agreeing with his gruncle. “But I do have good news for you!”

“Yes?”

“There’s cake!” Both men grinned. Augusta sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long update, I had a bit of a writer's block as to how to write the last part, but now the fun can truly commence! Next chapter, we should meet some new interesting characters down in Diagon Alley, especially a certain Slytherin in Mrs. Malkin's shop. Care to guess who it will be?
> 
> As always, thanks a lot for reading and kudos and comments really help me improve my work!


	3. To think straight in Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville has to go and get his things in Diagon Alley, but Algie is not as helpful as he could be. Also, somewhere in Scotland, interesting things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a bit of an update on this work, corrected a few mistakes and even changed the title. Hope you like it!

“Madam Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions” Neville read the sign out loud. “I thought we came down to London to buy the cool stuff on the list gruncle Algie!”

“We are, we are, I promise, but first I have to run an errand or two, so if you could have your robes tailored in the meantime, it would be great! See you!” The older wizard pushed his nephew through the door and then ran away from his responsibilities as fast as he could.

Neville hated shopping on principle, because it meant that he had to make decisions and have opinions, but he hated clothes shopping even more. He never quite knew where to put all his limbs as he was being openly judged on his appearance by everyone passing by. He didn’t have any sort of image problem mind you, he just preferred to forget he had a body and was always sad when he was forced to remember it. Things went from bad to worse in Neville’s mind when he saw the look on the squat little witch in front of him. Somehow, the fact that she was all dressed in mauve didn’t make her expression less angry, it just looked as if it belonged to another face.

“I suppose you’re the little Longbottom?”

“Y...Yes ma’am...” Neville’s voice quivered. He hated it when people were angry at him, and he hated it even more when he didn’t know why.

“Well you will tell your cowardly uncle that he still hasn’t payed me for his wife’s wedding dress, and that it was over thirty years ago. Another Hogwarts set then? I do them all the time these days.” Madam Malkin sighed in exasperation when the little boy didn’t move. He looked as though he thought that she would forget he was there if he stayed still enough. “Come on then, I haven’t gotten all day. Plus, you have a future classmate already there.”

When he looked, Neville did in fact see someone, and had two very distinct and opposite reaction. The first was one of disgust, because it was clearly a girl and he especially didn’t want to be seen being fitted by a girl his own age. The second was one of sheer awe, as the dress the girl was currently trying out caught the light and reflected every single colour at once. The disgust and the awe both tried to form themselves on his face and failed miserably. Neville opened his mouth to say something, remembered he had nothing to say, and then forgot to close his mouth. The girl’s green eyes shifted slightly to sneak a better look at the boy whilst pretending not to care. The sly smile that formed on her lips betrayed her. Madam Malkin’s assistant, which was currently working on the lower part of the robe, saw this and chuckled a bit. It wasn’t the first time her client successfully showed off when trying new clothes in the store, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Ah, how she remembered the joys of teasing those classmates... This felt so far away now, but seeing that smile somehow lit a small fire in the heart of the employee.

“So, did you plan to gape at me all day or what? I know I’m amazing, but I’m definitely not interested and you haven’t even introduced yourself.” The girl spoke with authority and confidence, but there also seemed to always be a hint of malice in her voice, as if there was something funny about the person she was talking with.

“That’s not a school uniform” was the most intelligent thing Neville could say at this point.

“How very observant of you. I don’t know about you, but I certainly didn’t intend to spend a whole year dressed solely in black, let alone seven of them. My name is Pansy by the way, Pansy Parkinson. And before you ask, yes, that is the Parkinson family that’s part of the famous Sacred Twenty-Eight.” She did a little curtsy as she said that, which in the shop assistant’s opinion was a little exaggerated. “Pleased to meet you, mister...” Neville took her extended hand and shook it, which surprised her as she was used to people kissing it.

“Longbottom. Neville Longbottom.”

“Oh, I’ve actually heard about you! That’s refreshing, as it’s usually the opposite, since the Parkinson name is so famous. Anyway, you were almost my cousin! I think you are going to be my friend.” Neville found it funny that he didn’t seem to have a say in that, but he didn’t have any time to object before Pansy screeched. “OH. MY. GOD. Have you _seen_ that?” Neville looked right where Pansy was pointing, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Seen what? There’s just people walking down the street.”

“I mean just look at her! That hair has so much volume, her teeth are so white, her almond eyes seem like they are burning with every passion imaginable... She’s perfect!” Pansy spoke faster than Neville could think at this point.

“Wait who? What could you possibly find beautiful in a girl?” asked Neville, thoroughly confused.

“You don’t think I could find another woman beautiful, is that it?” Pansy was outraged, but tried to play it off as mock surprise.

“Girls are yucky” said Neville in an exemplary show of maturity.

“Git.” Pansy was relieved, but she definitely wasn’t about to show that, much less to a boy.

“Stop mucking about, you two! Can’t you see we’re trying to work?” Madam Malkin’s anger was difficult to take seriously, as she did seem to enjoy the gossip a lot.

“Sorry Madam” replied Neville.

“You’re right to be sorry, you almost made me rip my new dress!” exclaimed Pansy, completely ignoring Madam Malkin.

“I did not! Wait, look! You’re in luck, your mystery girlfriend is coming in!”

“Ugh, this is so bad! This is the end of the world!” Pansy lamented.

“I thought you said she was perfect?”

“How daft can you be? I said she was perfect, I didn’t say I was ready to meet her yet. Don’t just stand there, you’re my friend, go and do something!”

Madam Malkin and her assistant barely contained their hilarity at the little girl’s antics.

“I can’t move, someone is putting pins through the fabric that’s on me!”

“That’s called being fitted, and you’re obviously not very good at it, aren’t you?” Pansy hid her panic behind an unhealthy dose of sass, as she always did. She was stopped by the faint bells of the door.

“Hello, I’m looking for three sets of plain work robes, black, a pointed hat for day wear, black, and one winter cloak, black with silver fastenings, if you please.” Said the new girl in a high-pitched voice as she went through the door.

“I think I know the Hogwarts uniform kit by now, thanks” said Madam Malkin grumpily. “If you would just wait there for a moment, I’m almost finished with your schoolmate.”

“Oh, uh, sorry then, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I could just come back later you know...” All the confidence the girl had when she stepped through the door had just melted.

“No don’t go, it’s quite all right.” Pansy spoke as though she owned the store. Neville thought that considering what she was currently wearing, she certainly looked the part. “You clearly cannot go to school wearing _that_.” The emphasis of her disgust was very clearly on the word _that_.

“I’m done miss Parkinson!” said Madam Malkin’s assistant, not quite sure she liked what she just heard.

“Good, you can send it in with the rest of my stuff. You’re welcome to stay at my place next time you’re in York, Longbottom. And you, bucktooth, I’ll see you at school.” Without a second look for anyone in the shop, Pansy promptly left.

“Well, that was instructive at least, I know one less person I’ll want to talk to at school. Is she always like that?”

It took Neville a second to realise the brunette was talking to him. He took another second or two to think about his answer, and finally simply shrugged. “I have no idea.”

***

Somewhere in the vicinity of Edinburgh, two women were having lunch together at a rater posh coffee shop. This wasn’t extraordinary in and of itself, as many women did have lunch at that specific coffee shop, but these two seemed just out of place. First, they were a little bit on the older side, especially the second one, which was not the usual clientele of this establishment. Second, they were both wearing cloaks. The most intriguing thing about them however was that, even though they did make quite the pair, neither of them seemed quite happy to be there at the moment. They did greet one another when they arrived, but they did not exchange much more than pleasantries before their soup arrived. After a handful of minutes of long and uncomfortable silence, the blonde one spoke to her companion, who was wearing a tartan cloak.

“So, Minerva, is there something on your mind?” she asked, trying to seem inconspicuous by toying with her spoon while she spoke.

“No, there isn’t, why would you say that?” replied Minerva, defensively.

“It’s just that... We don’t usually see each other in broad daylight, and then you simply owled me to say that we needed to talk. I came here to talk, but you’re not speaking. Is it something I did?”

“No, no, not really. Well, it’s not something you did, it’s more akin to something you didn’t do, but then I didn’t do it either, so it’s more of something _we_ didn’t do...” Minerva’s eyes were locked on her caldo verde.

“Honey, you’re rambling there.” As she spoke, she put her hands on the other witch’s. “Tell me what’s going on in that prodigious mind of yours.”

Minerva took a deep breath to steady herself and looked her date in the eyes. “Well we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now, but we’ve never been on any actual dates. It’s always over straight after breakfast, and I was wondering if even that was a simple courtesy rather than you enjoying your time with me. I... Well, to tell you the truth Mafalda, I was getting afraid you only liked this relationship as a purely physical one.” The older witch blushed and looked away, unsure of what the reaction to such a bomb would be.

“Well, we’re on a date now, aren’t we?” said Mafalda, smiling.

“Yes, but it’s not going swimmingly, now is it?”

“The soup is good, but I think the company’s even better” she said with an overzealous wink. 

A moment of tense silence passed.

“Wait, was that flirting?” said Minerva incredulously.

“I wouldn’t know, I never flirt with anyone, I’m as chaste as a nun” replied Mafalda, playfully.

“ You will stop this ridiculous behaviour this instant young woman, we are trying to have a serious conversation!” said Minerva in her best attempt at a detention-giving tone. It wasn’t quite on point, but it was enough so that both women cracked open laughing. It was as if all the tension that had accumulated over the past months had simply evaporated. Even after calming down a bit, they were still smiling into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you, Minerva” said the younger witch barely above a whisper.

“Why are you thanking me, it’s me who should be thanking you!”

“Well, first things first, thank you for being so open with me about your fears and your hopes. Well also thanks for the soup, and for the sex, and for letting me have the chance to be with such an amazing witch.”

“Now look who’s rambling” said Minerva to hide her furious blushing. “But I insist, I should be thanking you. I haven’t been in a relationship since  Dougal, and that was... I don’t even want to think about it.” She pressed Mafalda’s hand even harder. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for everything. I wanted to thank you for listening, and for making my days a little brighter.” Her eyes were getting wetter and wetter as she spoke, as if the dam that contained all her emotions had started to brake.

“I love you” blurted out Mafalda.

“What?” said Minerva, completely taken aback.

“Is that so surprising?”  The blonde smiled through her humid eyes. “With all the time we spend together,  the time I enjoy sharing with you, it should come naturally, shouldn’t it?”

“Well yes, but you know, it’s the first time you’ve really said it, and now I feel like I ought to say it as well, but I want it to feel natural and not forced, because I really do feel it, and... and... and...” Both women were unable to hold their tears at this moment, nor could they stop grinning like idiots.

“Will you just shut up and kiss me?” And so they did.

***

“ I’m really sorry I disappeared on you back there, but look what I got you as a birthday present!”

Neville sighed. It wasn’t the first time his gruncle did something like that, and he knew it wasn’t going to be the last. It was probably better if he just played along, as usual. He still was ashamed that he had to borrow money from that Granger girl, but she really hadn’t seemed to mind. She was quite fun to talk to, even if she was a girl, he thought to himself, even if he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. 

“What’s wrong little one? Something happen in that shop?” said Algie with concern in his voice, half of it being that it was all his fault.

“Well I met a girl...”

“Ooh, those are real dangerous creatures, I tell you!” interrupted the older man, winking profusely.

“She was a bit odd, yet quite funny in her own way. She said she was almost my cousin, whatever that could mean.”

“What’s her name?” asked Algie, anxiously.

“ Pansy, I think. Pansy Parkinson.” When Neville said those words, Algie’s face fell. It was his fault after all.

“Never heard of her” said Algie  quickly , failing to be inconspicuous. “Oh look, we’re here already! How time flies!” 

They were now standing in front of an abandoned department store, built from old red bricks that seemed to be over three hundred years old. The mannequins in the storefront seemed just as ancient as the rags they were wearing. Neville hated this place, he couldn’t help but find it utterly depressing. Never had he come here and gotten good news, but that didn’t stop him from hoping and coming back every month. Algie spoke to one of the mannequins, and both he and his nephew went through the glass panel to land in the reception of St. Mungo’s Hospital. The Welcome Witch smiled sadly and simply said “They’ve been waiting for you.”  As they climbed up to the fourth floor, Algie huffed and puffed so much that they had to take breaks twice. They politely nodded to the patients and healers in ward 49, as they were some of the only recurrent visitors in the long-term residents ward. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give their occupants some privacy.

“Mum? Dad? It’s me, Neville.”

The witch in the left bed looked at him and beamed silently. Her face was thin and worn, her eyes seemed overlarge and her white hair was wispy and dead-looking.  She made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand. As was their ritual, Neville outstretched his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum Wrapper.

“Thanks Mum, I know just where I’ll put it.” His mother silently nodded, and continued to look at him without blinking with her joyful, over-dilated pupils. Neville’s father was still in the same position as ever, both hands gripping his blanket tightly, so that only his nose, his frantic eyes and what patches were left of his hair poked out from under the covers. His eyes stopped jerking when they fell on Neville, and he started mumbling, as if he had to continuously be active and on the lookout.

“Wizard. Wizard. Sorcerer. Warlock. Wizard. Wizard. Come. Come. Wizard. Wizard. Magic. Wizard. Hogwarts. Wizard. Wizard. Wand. Wand. Wand. Wand. Wand. WAND. Wizard. Wizard.” He then returned to having a stare-down contest with a swarm of flies that weren’t there. Suddenly, there was a loud “POP” and something fell on Neville’s head.  It was a long, wooden something. 

“Merlin’s beard...” said Algie under his breath, for he recognised what it was. Seven and a half inches,  alder,  dragon heartstring,  balanced. It was Frank Longbottom’s wand that just materialised out of thin air. Neville seemed to have understood what it meant, too, because he was pressing it to his chest, crying profusely and thanking his father. Perhaps all was not lost, perhaps there was still hope. Neville sat on a chair and started to tell his father about everything and anything, wishing that some part of him could still hear his son, wherever his mind was.

***

When they got out of the hospital, many hours later, the sun was setting over London. Neville could not believe his luck, this had been the best birthday present he ever had. He was going to make his parents so proud.

“Well, er, I got you a present too, as I was saying earlier...” Algie said, wiping something out of his left eye. “I thought you might like a companion at Hogwarts, so I got you this blinking toad!”

“This is fantastic!” exclaimed Neville, whose mood would not falter. “I’m going to name him Trevor!” He paused for a second, looking at the  green and yellow amphibian whose eyes would not blink. “Why is it called a blinking toad?”

“Well it’s quite good with teleportation magics, so it can apparate with you wherever you go!” Algie said enthusiastically. Neville sighed and laughed a bit at the expense of his sometimes foolish gruncle. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t apparate until I’m of age, but it’s okay, I’m sure I can still love... wait, where is Trevor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so hyped to write the next chapter, so prepare to board the Hogwarts Express quite soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, it really means a lot to me! Please remember to comment and leave kudos if you liked it.


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